


Decalogue

by may_tricks



Category: Desperate Housewives
Genre: Adultery, F/F, F/M, Pre-Series, Vignettes, established affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3660036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/may_tricks/pseuds/may_tricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their fates aren't just sealed, their days are numbered. Ten sins that Bree and Lynette committed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decalogue

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing related to Desperate Housewives.

**Preface. I am the Lord, your God.**

Bree keeps a bible in her bedside table that she reads sometimes before going to bed.

These are a collection of neatly printed rules and stories and explanations.

She follows them because they’re clear and orderly, and they will lead her down the path of righteousness.

She prays to God every night before she sleeps, her own wishes and confessions all tangled up in each other.

She believes God has a plan for everyone and that Lynette must be part of hers.

**1\. You shall have no other gods before me.**

It takes a considerable amount of gray matter for Bree to concentrate on literally anything other than the sensation of her tongue on the inside of Lynette’s thighs, her knees cupped in her palms, the breathless noises she’s emitting. She makes a valiant effort though, desperately trying to link fragments into sentences and articulating them to Lynette, to herself, all while she slides her tongue into Lynette. Though her mouth is otherwise preoccupied, Bree wishes that she could vocalize her feelings if only for Lynette to understand.

At a loss on how to express herself with words, Bree takes a more applied approach. She sucks her gently, slowly, and surely. The flavor is bittersweet, almost acidic and salty at once, and she thinks it could never sate the hunger she feels around Lynette. Patience has never been one of Lynette’s virtues, given by the fact that she is pumping her hips furiously and tightening her hold on the back of Bree’s head. Her desperation is obvious, which is certainly an ego boost, especially when accompanied by husky requests for further contact.

Bree figures she ought to pick up the pace, if only because Lynette’s breathing is becoming worryingly labored, but she’s enjoying taking her time. This moment is nothing short of reverence. Lynette’s body is flawless, beautiful, responding to every touch, and generously being offered. Her fingers skim from Lynette’s knees up to her belly, her tongue stroking Lynette’s clit in a fashion that she can only define as worshipful. When she feels Lynette coming apart, Bree is overwhelmed; it’s as though her prayers have been answered.

**2\. You shall not make yourself an idol.**

Bree clutches the bed sheets with one hand while the other strokes Lynette’s hair. While her grip on the linens is fierce to the point of white knuckles, Bree’s opposite hand is gentler. She caresses Lynette’s shoulders tenderly, watching in rapture as she adeptly brings her to the brink of completion only to deny her release. It’s been like this for ages, maybe eons, probably only minutes. Time is a foreign concept to Bree, who can barely comprehend the numbers on her bedside clock let alone how long they have been making love tonight.

For a few minutes or so Lynette will allow the pressure build and build but then always ends up withdrawing her fingers from inside of Bree, alternating between fondling her breasts and curving her digits in the most sensitive crevices of Bree’s wanting body. They stay like this for a short eternity, Bree flat on her back while Lynette is situated on her side. Lynette’s forehead is pressed to Bree’s temple, her breath hot on Bree’s cheek, and they’re both watching Lynette’s fingers trail from Bree’s breasts, down her body, to her pubic mound.

Kisses are exchanged: long and languid, quick and fraught, chaste and loving, deep and shameless. In between the parting of lips and the skin on skin contact, Lynette declares her affection: _“You’re perfect,” “I love you,” “I want you,” “Feels amazing,” “You’re beautiful,” “Oh sweetheart, just look at you.”_ Bree feels divine in the truest sense of the word. She feels invincible and powerful, but more than anything she feels cherished. As Lynette bestows her with kisses and praise and orgasm after orgasm, Bree thinks that this bed must be a holy ground.

**3\. Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.**

_“Jesus Christ, Lynette.”_ Bree gasps as Lynette licks the delicate shell of ear before snaring her earlobe between her teeth. Her hands are already on Bree, deftly running up and down her frame, before moving to her back where she manages to drag down the zipper of her dress. It falls between them like a flag of surrender, the material white and crumpled on the floor. They’re barely beyond the front door and then Bree’s slammed up against it, sandwiched between the surface and Lynette. Without looking, Bree manages to the lock the door after a minute.

 _“Dear God in Heaven.”_ Bree’s words come out rushed, if not a bit breathless. Lynette huffs a laugh against Bree’s clavicle while using one hand to unhook her bra and the other to squeeze her ass. The spread of her legs is entirely muscle memory; she briefly wonders if her body will ever forget Lynette’s. Rocking against Lynette’s thigh is intoxicating, due to both the friction and familiarity. It’ll never cease to amaze Bree that she can become aroused by the simple knowledge that she and Lynette have done this countless times before.

 _“Good Lord!”_ The climax is intense, blindsiding Bree. She comes hard as Lynette holds her up, keeping her from collapsing on the foyer floor. All night had been leading up to this, hours of foreplay finally reaching its peak the second Lynette got the chance to push Bree up against a flat surface. Lynette’s still entirely dressed, her pantyhose isn't even rolled down, and here Bree is in only a pair of now dampened panties. The house has fallen silent since Rex and the children are away but Bree knows she won’t brave the quiet alone tonight.

**4\. Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.**

They make love twice on Sunday: before and after morning service. In early morning sunlight, Bree wakes to the warmth filtering through her window curtains, as well as Lynette’s tongue swirling around her left nipple. Kissing her way up Bree’s chest, neck, and jaw, Lynette nuzzles her nose with such endearment that Bree can’t help but grin back. Her breath is minty fresh in stark comparison to Bree’s own stale morning breath. She doesn't have the chance to hide her embarrassment, however, before Lynette captures her lips in a kiss.

 _“How did you wake up before me? I always wake up first.” “I must have worn you out last night, which I’m taking as a compliment.” “What time is it?” “How are you even this coherent when you've only been awake a minute? Just relax.”_ Response dissolving on Bree’s tongue, she feels Lynette eagerly kissing down her body until she’s at her groin. She shifts gears immediately, gradually arousing Bree’s body, then being impressively thorough as she curls her tongue deep inside of Bree, reveling in the lazy way that she delivers an earth-moving orgasm.

After service, Bree makes her way over to the Scavo house where she finds Lynette sitting on the front porch. She doesn't stop the vehicle because a moment later Lynette is swinging the passenger side door open so she can climb inside. They drive to the outskirts of town, to no-man’s-land, and make love in the backseat with their clothes on. The afternoon sun is high in the sky and the A/C is blasting, standing their hair on end. It’s a tight fit, nowhere near comfortable, but afterward they make easy conversation and sing along to the radio.

**5\. Honor thy father and mother.**

A weekend is officially too long for Bree to bare being away from Lynette. She thinks her missing Lynette is especially salient because she knows Tom is away on business right now. This isn't the whole reason though and Bree knows it, too ashamed to admit it, but she’s pacing around the guest bedroom taking in all the reminders that this is her father and step-mother’s house and she gets agitated whenever Eleanor is around. She desperately wants to call Lynette, seek comfort, but her guilt is compounded by her family all bonding.

She waits until everyone is asleep to sneak downstairs. Andrew and Danielle are occupying her old bedroom, which was renovated into a second guest bed once she left home, and as she creeps past their door she offers them her silent prayers for forgiveness. The kitchen is far too public, the bathroom is out of question, and the laundry room seems like a safe bet but she would have no excuse for why she’s there if anyone did walk in on her. Ultimately, Bree decides to slip outside so she can sit on the stoop, easily able to claim needing fresh air.

She calls Lynette’s cell phone because she doesn't want to wake the kids. The sleep slurred responses Lynette murmurs into the phone shouldn't be so endearing but everything she does is adorable to Bree so she’s really can’t judge what “should” and “should not” be. Lynette asks about the visit and Bree gives her half-truths; she loves her family but there’s more to it than that. Lynette lifts her spirits with phone sex but Bree refuses to masturbate at her parents’ house so she gets wet then has to change her panties before rejoining Rex in bed.

**6\. You shall not kill.**

On the surface nothing is out of place. No one knows of their transgressions but Lynette fears that this thing between her and Bree is slowly seeping into other realms of their lives. She’s afraid she’s killing her marriage with Tom and she’s scared that she’s killing herself remaining married to someone who she can’t be faithful to. She wonders if it counts as cheating on Bree with Tom if Bree wasn't even in the picture at first. Is it a death if it takes years or is that just life? Is the demise of her marriage as inevitable as her own mortal life?

She doesn't let herself vocalize these concerns to Bree, who is making quick work of stripping away her shirt. There’s a time and a place for such confessions so while Lynette trusts Bree with everything she holds near and dear she also knows that if she shows a trace of doubt then Bree will terminate everything they've built together. She considers herself extremely fortunate that Bree ever even agreed to be with her, let alone to continue to the point of celebrating anniversaries, which is what they’re doing today. Two years as of Monday.

Rather than voicing her worries, Lynette kisses Bree deeply, thoroughly. She tries to press everything into this kiss, tries to tell her how much she loves her, and how everything is going to be okay because it has to be. They make love on the dining room table after putting away the dishes from Bree’s home-cooked meal, they make love on the staircase in their effort to get to her bedroom, and they make love a third time against the wall outside her upstairs bathroom. She kills her thoughts of marriage with everything Bree and it’s enough.

**7\. You shall not commit adultery.**

Lynette is careful not to lose either her wedding band or her engagement ring down the drain as she’s scrubbing them both in hand soap. She put the stopper in the sink and is making sure to rinse all around in case there’s any evidence of Bree left behind. When she and Tom had met he was dating someone else and Lynette, unashamed, gladly accepted her place as “the other woman.” He broke up with his girlfriend shortly after they got together but what they had done together was wrong all the same. It didn't bother Tom though.

Securing her rings back on her finger, Lynette stares at the gold glinting in her bathroom’s florescent lighting. When they had gotten married Lynette believed she found someone to spend the rest of her life with and that hasn't changed. She can see a whole future laid out with Tom but that’s only because she envisions it on their street with her children and her friends and Bree right across the way. In a surprising turn of events it appears that staying with Tom makes being with Bree easier and as bad as that sounds, Lynette cannot deny it.

That night Tom tells her that he’s going out with some friends and not to wait up. He does her a favor though when he hands her a bottle of unopened wine, tells her to invite a friend over for a girl’s night, and passes her the phone with the instruction to call Bree up and see if she’s game. Without hesitation, Bree turns up on the doorstep with Gabby and Susan in tow. They drink until they’re giggly and they take turns telling stories and when Gabby and Susan leave, Bree stays behind. Sucking Lynette’s ring finger, Bree swiftly undresses her.

**8\. You shall not steal.**

She fucks Bree in Rex’s office, backing her up against his desk, and stroking her open with her tongue. She’s not being petty, not really, but she does get a thrill from knowing that Bree is screaming her name and not his. It’s a miracle that they make it upstairs but once they do Bree runs them a bath. Sinking into warm, soppy water, Lynette feels Bree’s palming her breasts, her lips on her shoulders, her thighs cinching her. As Bree fingers her, Lynette gasps against her neck, climaxing as Bree tells her in great detail how perfect she feels.

On the mattress Bree and Rex picked out, Lynette mounts Bree. They almost never use any devices but a small miracle has happened and Bree—after scrubbing the toy down numerous times—agrees to use the vibrator Lynette picked out weeks ago for an occasion just like this. Atop Bree’s bedside table there’s a picture from her wedding, all dressed in white and held in Rex’s embrace. Lynette briefly considers placing the frame face down but decides against it when she requires both hands to be on Bree because she’s close to finishing now.

When she slips out of Bree’s house under the guise of night Lynette tries to tally up the number of stolen looks and kisses and words they have shared. She thinks of the party that Bree threw for Rex’s most recent birthday and how she brushed against Bree purposefully upon entering the house. She thinks of telephone calls where they confessed hopes and fears and dreams. Locking the front door behind herself Lynette wonders how many minutes, days, even weeks total that she stole from Rex when she had to have Bree all to herself.

**9\. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.**

They’re ten minutes late to the weekly poker game because Bree had laid Lynette across the kitchen island, teasing her pebbled nipples and licking a trail of honey from the valley between her breasts. Turning up at the Solis’ house with their hair brushed and clothes straightened, Bree and Lynette take the seats opposite Susan and Mary Alice while Gabby fetches everyone drinks. In all the time that they've played poker, however, Bree has never been late so she—and by extension, Lynette—receive surprised glances and curious inquiries.

Rex finds a pair of Lynette’s panties under their bed much to Bree’s shock and horror. He doesn't recognize the article but Bree does, knows all too well how tempting Lynette looked when she wore the matching bra with it. She tells him that she’s mortified she must have missed it while doing their laundry. Chalking Bree's anxiety up to her anal-retentiveness Rex hands the underwear off to her with a shrug. Extra cautious, Bree folds up the panties in a sweater Lynette lent her then tucks that into a bag to return to Tom with a fake smile.

In the upstairs bathroom (while nearly everyone on their street is socializing downstairs) Lynette is pinned against the door with Bree’s thigh between her legs. Lynette is understandably stunned by Bree’s forwardness given that Bree had been the one to implement a zero-tolerance rule about sex during public gatherings. She’s not about to complain though, not when Bree is stroking the nape of her neck and advising her to ride her thigh harder. When people ask where they've been, Bree says she was helping fix a tear in Lynette’s dress.

**10\. You shall not covet your neighbor's wife / anything that belongs to your neighbour.**

In a moment right out of a Disney movie Rex dips Bree in a hug when she goes to kiss him goodbye before work one morning. He kisses her firm on the mouth and because her body remembers how to react even if her mind doesn't Bree kisses back. Rex’s laugh when he pulls away is free and makes him seem so much lighter but Bree isn't paying that as much mind as she is Lynette, who is collecting her mail across the street. She recognizes Lynette’s expression as one from her own arsenal but she leaves before Bree can apologize.

Lynette is not a naïve mother who can be blissfully ignorant to the Hell that her children raise. She hopes they’ll outgrow their hyperactivity and ability to destroy everything in their path but also knows they’re going to be the reason for every one of her gray hairs. Yet Bree sees how much Lynette absolutely adores her boys and every time she realizes that fact it makes her heart leap into her throat. She’s painfully aware of how much she wants to raise her children and Lynette’s together, how her family doesn't feel as whole without them in it.

Their husbands, Carlos, and Paul organize a “guys’ weekend” camping trip, leaving their wives and children in suburbia. None of the women mind, in fact they’re grateful for the excuse to spend more time together and with their kids. They end up taking them all out to a water park on Saturday, and lending them money to go see a movie on Sunday. For two nights and days, Lynette and Bree live a fantasy that is far more forbidden than heated kisses and illicit touches. They imagine an honest life together but some rules can’t be broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope your day is wonderful <3


End file.
